


the further adventures of lem, hella, and fero: ending and beginning

by fangirl_squee, madelinestarr



Series: the bird, the book, the shield [12]
Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 12:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/pseuds/madelinestarr
Summary: Hella sees a vision in her sword. It comes to pass.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the very final for real this time part!! Thank you, so much, to everyone who left kudos and comments and who tweeted at us about it - it means a lot to us that people liked this Very Long Thing we did. Boat party forever, you guys.
> 
> And a very, very special thanks, to Lexie, who took on this absolutely mammoth task and did amazing at it!

It was a quiet night but Hella couldn’t sleep. She felt an itch under her skin, the kind that normally made her pack up and move on in the early hours of the morning, the kind that made her want to seek out dangerous work in an unfamiliar town. It made sense: she’d already stayed in Velas far longer than she usually would have. It was the longest she’d stayed anywhere in a while.

 

She eased Lem’s arm from around her shoulder, careful not to wake him (she could be less careful about waking Fero, asleep on Lem’s other side, who slept through thunderstorms rolling overhead and people yelling from the tavern downstairs).

 

If leaving town wasn’t an option -- and, looking down at the sleeping forms of Lem and Fero, curled around each other despite the summer heat, it wasn’t -- then she would have to try a different method to calm the twitchy feeling under her skin. Cleaning her sword, with its slow, methodical process and repetitive movements, sometimes helped.

 

Hella pulled it from its sheath quietly, getting the cleaning supplies (a High Sun Day gift from her two) from her pack and sitting near the window. She leant back in the chair, using the bright moonlight to see her work.

 

Her blade was always well cared for even when she didn’t feel restless, so there wasn’t much work to be done. Still, it looked as though it could use a polish. It wasn’t something she bothered with much when she was on the road (after all, people feared her blade well enough even when it wasn’t a shining mirror), but during peaceful times it felt more worthwhile: a way to thank her sword for its service.

 

Hella frowned. As she rubbed the cloth over the surface of the blade it only seemed to cause  _ more _ smudges. She suppressed a sigh, angling the sword in the moonlight, trying to get a better look at the smudges. As she did so, they began to change, becoming blurs, the shadowy shapes, finally sharpening into something more solid.

 

Shown on the sword’s wide blade were Lem and Fero.

 

Hella looked up sharply. Lem and Fero were still asleep in their bed. She looked back down, her grip tightening on the sword’s hilt as she looked at the Lem and Fero in the sword’s vision closely.

 

Now that she could see them more clearly, they didn’t look  _ exactly _ like Lem and Fero -- the Lem and Fero in the sword looked older, with silver-streaked hair and a few more lines around the eyes. Lem’s clothes looked different too, less like the serviceable, pocket-covered top (the one that was currently lying where she’d tossed it over the back of a chair earlier in the evening), more Velasian. Fero looked neater somehow, his beard better trimmed than the scruffy version of him asleep in bed. 

 

The Lem and Fero in the sword’s vision reclined on a worn-looking couch, Fero resting in Lem’s lap as Lem read from a large sheaf of papers. The Fero in the vision pointed to something on the papers, saying something she couldn’t hear as he looked up at Lem. Whatever he said made Lem smile and press a quick kiss the the top of Fero’s head before he replied. Fero smiled back, looking pleased. 

 

Hella smiled too, looking at them, glad that some things stayed the same no matter what the version of Hieron she was looking at.

 

They both looked to the side and another figure appeared, small and green-skinned. Hella’s breath caught in her throat. She moved to put down the blade, not wanting to torture herself with visions of a different path her life might have taken. There was so many branches to their story that could have caused her to end up in a room far from where Lem and Fero slept, and she had no wish to see them.

 

The sword pulsed in her hand, the vibrations growing stronger until she looked down at it. The image pulsed brighter, and with that new light she could see who the third figure was -- an orcish child: a little girl with bright red hair.

 

Hella reached up, touching her own fire-red hair.

 

She barely had time to register the sight before there was another blur on the blade’s edge. This time the figure that emerged was instantly recognisable. It was herself.

 

Older, certainly, with the same streak of silver in her hair to match the Lem and Fero in the vision, but otherwise the same.

 

The vision of herself picked up the orc child from behind, spinning them both around in a circle to the clear delight of the orc girl. Hella pressed her lips together, a memory floating to the top of her mind, stark and clear, of her father doing the same to her on his return home from fishing trips.

 

Lem and Fero smiled at her, moving back on the couch to make room as the version of herself in the vision sat down on the couch, the orc girl in her lap. Fero moved the sheaf of papers down, pointing out something to Hella. The version of herself in the vision rolled her eyes, but smiled. The scene in the blade began to blur, and Hella stared at it hard, trying to see as many details as she could, trying to commit as much as she could of it to memory.

 

The vision blurred out, fading to faint smudges before disappearing altogether, leaving her blade shining and clear once more. 

 

Hella sat, looking down at the blade in her hands for a long moment. Tiredness finally settled over her limbs like a blanket. She put away her blade and crawled back in beside Lem.

 

Lem made a questioning noise as he stirred, blinking up at her, still mostly asleep.

 

“Everything's fine,” said Hella softly, “go back to sleep.”

 

“You too,” said Lem, his eyes already sliding shut.

 

His arm curled back around her as she settled back down against his side, warm and solid.

 

Hella fell asleep, thinking of silver-streaked hair and warm smiles, and how she hoped she might live to see it.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was only a small skirmish, an outpost of bandits they’d missed on their way to their stronghold, easily dealt with. Still, it felt good to fight alongside Hella again. Although Hadrian was glad that there was not as much cause for war these days, part of him had missed this, the harsh clash of blades in the air, the rush of adrenaline that filled him during battle as his fought under the golden sun.

 

He looked for her, after. He wasn’t too worried -- after all,  _ Hella Varal _ was unlikely to be felled by the blade of some bandit’s underling -- but, still. They were both in the habit of checking in with each other after battle. It was strange to not have her by his side, complaining of her opponents being poorly matched and teasing him about how sloppy his footwork got during the heat of battle.

 

She was a little way off into the trees, turned away from the scene of the battle and mostly hidden by undergrowth. Hadrian approached, a cheerful greeting dying on his lips as Hella braced one arm against the tree and threw up. 

 

“Hella?”

 

Hella straightened quickly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

“What are you- are you okay? Are you ill?”

 

She’d seemed fine the night before, joking with the younger soldiers as they complained about the long ride back to Velas.

 

Hella rubbed her head. “No, I’m- I’m fine. I just- I’m fine.”

 

Hadrian looked down at the tree’s bile-covered roots behind Hella and back to her again, crossing his arms.

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” repeated Hella.

 

“Sure, this is perfectly healthy behaviour,” said Hadrian, “You shouldn’t have taken this job if you were sick, if not for your own health then at  _ least _ to stop it from spreading amongst the rest of us. You know what camps are like.”

 

“I’m not-” Hella broke off with a sigh. “It’s not contagious.”

 

“A moment ago you weren’t sick at all, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”

 

Hella gave an annoyed grunt. “You can be as skeptical as you like.”

 

She went to move past him and Hadrian grabbed her arm to stop her. Hella froze. He looked her over carefully. Her eyes were clear, giving him an annoyed look. He couldn’t see any rash that would mark any kind of pox he knew of, only a faint bruise on her cheek from their earlier fight with the bandits. She didn’t seem feverish, just a little sweaty from battle they’d been through.

 

Still. Hadrian’s worry for the rest of the camp, for the young soldiers of Samothes who had accompanied them on his request, mixed with his worry for Hella, who hid her burdens almost as deep as he hid his own.

 

“Hella,” said Hadrian, keeping his voice steady.

 

Hella let out a long sigh. Hadrian relaxed his grip. Instead of continuing onto camp, she stayed where she was. She looked tired, and he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“I’m not sick,” said Hella, looking up at the trees above them, “I’m pregnant.”

 

Hadrian stared at her. “You- you’re  _ what _ ?”

 

Hella looked back down, keeping her gaze on the treeline, the distant camp, the ground below them, anywhere but Hadrian’s face. “I’m pregnant.”

 

“I- Hella’s that’s- what did Lem and Fero say when you told them?”

 

Hella hesitated. “I... haven’t told them yet”

 

Hadrian raised his eyebrows. “What? Why?”

 

Hella shrugged. “We were preparing to leave for this,” she gestured the the post-battle scene behind them. “It seemed like something that could wait.”

 

“Something that could…  _ Hella _ ,” said Hadrian.

 

Hella tapped out a rhythm on her sword hilt.

 

“I… had a vision once. A while ago. My sword-” Hella paused. “Sometimes my sword shows me things. Not often but- sometimes. And, once, it showed me a child. My child.”

 

“You- I didn’t know that,” said Hadrian.

 

“It seemed pointless to tell people,” said Hella, “after all, if it wasn’t a vision of the future then I didn’t want them to… and I thought, if it was the future, well, it would be here soon enough.” A soft look came over Hella’s face. “It will be good to finally meet her.”

 

It took Hadrian a second to process what Hella was saying.

 

“A girl?”

 

Hella nodded, smiling, her eyes distant. “She’ll have my hair and Lem’s tusks, and Fero’s laugh, I think. I couldn’t hear anything from the vision, but it seemed like his.”

 

Hadrian smiled back at her. Hella opened her mouth, looking as if she would said more -- and then turned and threw up again. It missed Hella’s feet, a little bit splashing on his shoes.

 

“These are  _ blessed _ ,” Hadrian said, tone complaining.

 

Hella laughed from where she was bent over. She leaned her head onto Hadrian’s armor covered hip. Hadrian laughed too, gently pulling at Hella’s shoulders until she stood upright. She leant on his shoulder, a bit more heavily than he was used to. 

 

He began to guide them both back to camp, already mentally preparing to make sure Hella got well-cooked meat, first run at vegetables, clean water. He tried to remember the things Sabrina had liked when she’d been pregnant with Benjamin.

 

“Hella,” said Hadrian. He paused, wanting his words to be the correct ones. “I feel honoured that you told me first.”

 

“Only so that you wouldn’t make me spend the rest of the trip back in quarantine,” said Hella.

 

“Even so,” said Hadrian.

 

“Actually,  _ Sabrina  _ told  _ me  _ first,” mumbled Hella, “So that balances out.”

 

“She  _ what?!”  _ said Hadrian, stumbling. 

 

Hella laughed again. “I kept having this strange feeling, and I was telling Sabrina about it, before we left, and she said-  she said it sounded a lot like how she felt right before she found out she was pregnant with Benji, and then she made me go with her to a physician friend of her’s, to make sure. And they said… well. They were sure.”

 

“I can’t believe Sabrina didn’t tell me,” said Hadrian, mostly to himself.

 

Hella patted Hadrian’s chestplate, moving to stand on her own now that they were closer to camp.

 

“Don’t feel too badly,” said Hella, “I asked her not to tell anyone until we got back. I think she agreed with me that it might send you into a panic.”

 

“I have  _ never _ -”

 

“Hadrian, I was there the day Ben was born,” said Hella, grinning.

 

“Well,” Hadrian huffed, “that’s different. Special circumstances.”

 

“And just now, when you saw me throwing up, you acted as though I might have the plague.”

 

“I did not.”

 

“You did so,” said Hella, “I could see it in your eyes, you were already planning out what supplies you’d need for this medical emergency.”

 

“It never hurts to have a plan in mind,” said Hadrian, “not that I was planning anything.”

 

“And you’d better not be planning anything now,” said Hella, “no special treatment and no telling anyone until we get back and I can tell Lem and Fero.”

 

“Of course,” said Hadrian, already thinking of how best to sneak some of his rations onto Hella’s plate.

  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

Nova rose early in the day, a trait she’d inherited from her mother. She enjoyed watching the sun rise over the quiet city as she prepared her morning meal. There was a note that had been pushed under her door. She recognised her brother’s scrawled hand immediately.

 

_ Staying with Nel tonight -- tell them I’ll be late because I’m collecting history info or something. _

 

_ I owe you one, _

_ Vic _

 

Nova rolled her eyes. Vic had gotten it into his head that their parents would disapprove of Nel’s Nacre heritage even though she was sure it would be the opposite, given how fascinated their father was with the history of Nacre. Still, if he wanted her to cover for him, she’d do it. It would be harmless enough, and she could always tease him about it later.

Velas was still only beginning to wake as she made her way through the streets towards her parent’s house, a small blue-painted place in the Fish District. She knocked on the door, waited, then knocked again.

 

Her father answered, still looking half asleep. He bent down slightly to kiss her on the cheek before stepping back to let her into the house. “Good morning. We were still asleep.”

 

Nova huffed a laugh. “I thought at least mum would be up.”

 

“She just got back yesterday,” said Lem, “I think she’s enjoying being in a proper bed again.”

 

“She might be getting too old for mercenary missions,” said Nova, smiling faintly at the old family joke.

 

Her father smiled back. “Try telling her that.”

 

He puttered around the kitchen, setting a pan on the stove and filling the kettle. Nova, wanting to feel as though she was doing  _ something _ , got out plates and Lem shot her a soft smile in thanks.

 

“Good morning!” called her dad, thumping his way down the stairs.

 

At first she thought he was still wearing a sleep shirt, until she saw the pockets along the front that marked it as old Archivist clothing. Her mother came down behind him, thankfully wearing her own day clothes. Her father looked up, then blushed faintly.

 

“I thought we agreed that you’d stop stealing my clothes.”

 

“I never agreed to any such thing,” said Fero, hopping up on the chair beside Nova. “Besides, I couldn’t find my shirt.”

 

“That’s a big lie first thing in the morning,” said Hella. 

 

She ruffled a hand through Nova’s short hair, before sliding her arms around Lem’s shoulders, kissing him on the cheek. Fero was watching them, his chin propped up on his hand, smiling faintly.

 

Nova rolled her eyes. “Can you please remember that your daughter is in the room?”

 

Hella stepped back from Lem, raising her palms up. “We weren’t doing anything.”

 

“Now  _ that’s _ a big lie first thing in the morning,” said Fero.

 

“ _ Dad _ ,” said Nova, drawing the word out.

 

Lem blushed again, and coughed. “I thought you and Vic were arriving together?”

 

“He said he’s going to be late,” said Nova, “something about getting more historical information before breakfast.”

 

Her parents exchanged a look.

 

“Well,” said Hella, “I suppose he won’t mind if we start breakfast without him.”

 

Her father chattered about the progress of the school as he made breakfast -- the addition of the new building was going well, and the two new tutors-in-training were getting along nicely -- as Hella worked around him, and Fero watched from the table, teasing grins from both of them when he interjected.

 

The morning light shone through the window, catching the silver in her parent’s hair. When Nova was younger, she’d thought that silver streak was how you knew people were married, like a wedding band or a braided ribbon. They had the braided ribbon as well, of course, pinned above the doorframe of their bedroom for as long as Nova could remember. But the silver hair was just for the three of them -- strange but not unwelcome. 

 

Her brother arrived just as the breakfast was being put on the table. She’d often wondered if he had some sort of extra sense about food preparation.

 

“Excellent timing as always,” said Nova.

 

Vic shrugged, grinning at her across the table. “Well, you know. Lots of history to collect, very important.”

 

“Oh really?” said Lem, “What did you find?”

 

Vic shot her a panicked look. “Uh. I wouldn’t want to take over the conversation. I know Nova wanted to talk to you about  _ her _ project.”

 

“Oh, yes, I did,” said Nova quickly, “I went to get some letters from Aunt Sabrina the other day, and she said you guys might have some of your old letters from the time of the Velas-Ordena Agreements.”

 

Fero rubbed a hand over his chin. “We probably do -- you know your father keeps  _ everything _ .”

 

“Only the important things,” said Lem, smiling.

 

Hella pressed her lips together. “What kind of information are you wanting from the letters?”

 

Nova shrugged. “It depends on what information is in them. Aunt Sabrina and Uncle Hadrian’s letters have descriptions of meetings and who was present, and that’s useful.”

 

Fero hummed thoughtfully. “Might have to take some of those letters out then. Not our letters were, uh, were about that.”

 

“Wh-  _ Dad _ ,” said Nova, noticing Hella and Lem’s blushes.

 

Vic wrinkled his nose. “Dad, we’re trying to eat, we can’t do that if you’re being worse than Aunt Sabrina and Uncle Hadrian.”

 

“No way are we worse than them,” said Fero.

 

“You absolutely are,” said Nova, “and  _ please _ , take out those letters before I am even more scarred than I already am.”

 

“I’ll go find them after breakfast,” said Lem, doing an admirable job of keeping his voice even despite his blush.

 

Hella nodded, trying not to laugh at Nova’s matching blush. Her parents exchanged a look over the top of Vic’s head. Fero raised his eyebrows and Hella grinned.

 

“Hey Vic,” said Hella, taking a very casual sip of coffee, “how’s Nel?”

 

“They’re good, we- Shit.” Vic said, putting down his fork and knife. “ _ Nova _ , you said you’d cover for me!”

 

Fero nodded, matching Hella’s smile. “Oh, she did. You’re just not very good about keeping secrets.”

 

“He gets that from the two of you,” said Hella, still smiling.

 

Lem and Nova were quietly giggling, their green skin matching in tone as they watched the other three begin to bicker. Vic glared at her and Nova bit her lip, trying to stop laughing. She stood, turning to collect their now-empty plates.

 

“It’s not his fault!” Fero said to Hella, putting a hand on his chest, waving his other arm dramatically. “You know how it is to be young and in love!”

 

“It’s not  _ love _ , dad!” Vic cried back, almost terrified at the thought. “We’re just, you know, hanging out.”

 

Nova snorted. “You brought them  _ flowers _ yesterday.”

 

“They like flowers!” said Vic defensively, “flowers don’t have to  _ mean _ something every time!”

 

Hella rolled her eyes. “Whatever you’re doing, you should be bringing them around once in awhile. What’s the point of these muscles if I can’t terrify someone who’s trying to take my only boy’s heart?”

 

She flexed a little bit, and Vic and Nova instinctively mimicked her motions - an old habit from when they were kids. 

 

“We want to be big and strong like you, mom.” they would say. And Hella would reply back, “You’ve gotta show off what you’ve got, then.”

 

“I’m not going to bring them around just so you can frighten them,” said Vic.

 

“It wouldn’t just be to frighten them,” said Hella, “I’m sure your fathers would love to interrogate them.”

 

“Oh absolutely,” said Fero, moving to stand on his chair so he could lean over the table. “What are your intentions for my son?”

 

The chair rocked dangerously and Lem reached out to steady it. 

 

“Maybe not  _ quite _ so dramatic,” said Lem, “but it would be lovely to talk to them. You should bring them around for dinner.” Vic opened his mouth to protest and Lem held up a hand. “It doesn’t have to be a serious thing, but if they’re important to you we’d like to meet them.”

 

Vic sighed, going back to his food. “Maybe.”

 

“Or one of us could stop by Noah’s workshop and ask them ourselves,” said Fero.

 

Vic’s eyes went wide. “You  _ wouldn’t _ .”

 

Fero shrugged, grinning. “Hey, Noah’s a friend of mine, maybe I’m just dropping by to see her, and then I see this nice young person-” His voice took on a smoother tone “-oh it’s  _ Nel _ isn’t it? You know my son talks about you all the time-”

 

“Oh gods,” said Vic, “yes, alright, I’ll ask them if they want to come to dinner, but I’m  _ not _ going to force them, and you’d better not make it weird.”

 

“When have I ever done that?” said Fero.

 

Lem leaned closer to Hella, putting an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, resting her head on Lem’s shoulder. 

 

People often asked Nova what it was like to grow up with such a fearsome warrior for a mother-figure. Nova had heard enough tales over the years of her mother as a stone-faced queen killer to understand their curiosity, and there had certainly been times when she’d seen flashes of that side of her mother. But when Nova thought of her mother, she thought of strong, steady hands gutting fish or tending to scraped knees, and of soft smiles directed towards her fathers.

 

“Do you remember,” said Lem, his tone conspiratorial, “when we had that party to announce you were pregnant with Nova?”

 

Hella hummed, smiling. “Ben tried to use the big crowd to sneak a boy up to his room.”

 

Lem nodded “And Hadrian had a  _ fit _ , and Fero told us that he would  _ never _ be the obnoxious dad who would embarrass his kids like  _ that _ ?” 

 

“I’m not being  _ obnoxious _ !” said Fero, indignant, still standing on his chair.

 

Lem nodded, chuckling. 

 

“I’m glad that was a lie,” Nova said, from where she had begun to scrub dishes. “This is a lot more fun for me.”

 

Lem laughed.

 

“Me too,” Hella said, before taking another sip of her coffee.

 

\----

 

The morning sun rose slowly over Velas. Over the the small house where Hella, Lem, and Fero joked over breakfast with Nova and Vic, over the Fish District where Ren kissed Jessie and Noah on their way out the door to another day’s work, over the Garden District where Sabrina and Hadrian looked out over their small garden patch, free hands intertwined as Sabrina read through her paperwork for the day and Hadrian worked on his next sermon.

 

It rose over the room at the inn where Hella, Lem, and Fero used to stay, over the market square, over the council chambers. It rose over the docks of Velas, and the calm ocean, and the distant shore of Ordena, warming them all.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: madelinestarr | mariusperkins


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